


Sneksual frustration

by Mraowface



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Will Absolutely Never Learn to Behave, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Oral Sex, Oscar Fucking Wilde, Return of the Amorous Crowley-Snake, Serious frustration, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Still Bestiality-Free!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 10:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mraowface/pseuds/Mraowface
Summary: Aziraphale spends two days absorbed in a book, while Crowley clamours for attention.  Fortunately, there's one sure-fire way to get it...Contains absolute snake-themed filth.





	Sneksual frustration

Crowley paced up and down the bedroom of the bookshop flat. He was fucking _livid_. Aziraphale was downstairs in the shop's back room, _still_ reading that damned play. Crowley was bored, frustrated, and _fucking_ pissed off with Oscar _fucking_ Wilde.

It was 8.00 in the evening, and Aziraphale hadn't moved all day. Crowley had clattered obnoxiously round the flat, had tried making the shop bell ring over and again, and the angel _hadn't noticed a thing. _Crowley cursed God and Satan, and that bastard Aubrey Beardsley too. It was a _one act play_ – Aziraphale should have polished it off by elevenses.

And that was another thing – the angel hadn't even paused for a snack. He was too absorbed in the damned book, staring at pictures, flicking back and forth, finally getting to the end, only to _turn back to the beginning again._ Crowley was tearing his hair out. It was time to act.

A few minutes later, he was stomping down the stairs. He marched into the back room, and banged a plate of toast and mug of tea onto the table. If the tea hadn't been frankly terrified, it would have sloshed all over Aziraphale's precious book.

Aziraphale didn't even glance up. He murmured a vague “thank you, my dear,” and _kept right on reading._ Crowley glared at him for a full minute, and stomped back upstairs to bed.

He slept for a solid sixteen hours. When he woke, bleary-eyed, he listened out for any signs of movement from Aziraphale. He just _knew_ that he was still downstairs with that blasted book. Right.

Crowley pulled on his tightest pair of black jeans, no underwear, and no shirt. This would fucking get him.

Bare chested, Crowley sauntered downstairs. He swaggered into the back room and right up to Aziraphale, halting and leaning over him suggestively, exuding all the sex appeal he could muster.

“Hi, angel.”

Aziraphale barely glanced up. The tea and toast were still in front of him, untouched.

Right. This was _war._

Over the next six hours, Crowley brought Aziraphale eleven cups of tea, the last three stark bollock naked (the neon green frilly knickers hadn't worked either). He played _Another One Bites the Dust_ seventeen times in a row. He sat opposite the angel and flicked chocolate covered coffee beans at him (and the collected mugs). Then he got a bit desperate and sat doing vodka shots until his vision got blurry.

It was in this state that he decided to bring out the ultimate weapon. He sobered up just a little bit, and slithered onto the floor.

Snake-Crowley wound himself round Aziraphale's chair, and insinuated himself onto the angel's lap. He nipped at the angel's waistcoat, and reared his head up to face Aziraphale full on.

“Oh!” cried the angel. “How long have you been there? Let me just finish up reading, and we can go snuggle.”

Angry hissing. Crowley weaved his head from side to side, blocking Aziraphale's vision. Then he wound himself round the angel's neck, relishing the feel of the warm skin on his smooth scales. He hissed more gently.

“Hmm, you're in a funny mood. I'd best look after you.”

Triumphant hissing. The snake was borne up as Aziraphale finally moved from his chair, and took them both upstairs.

“Maybe I should leave you for a nap?” tried Aziraphale. Crowley's response was to wrap his tail round the angel's legs, and jerk the rest of his muscular body sideways, lurching both of them onto the bed. He then immediately started writhing, and biting at Aziraphale's waistcoat buttons.

“Ok, you win. Naked snuggles it is.” Aziraphale carefully undressed himself, while the snake watched with approval.

Aziraphale soon found that snuggling wasn't quite what Crowley had had in mind. The more he tried to manoeuvre the snake into a comfortable resting position, the more he wriggled and writhed about. Aziraphale was utterly scandalised as the snake slithered deliberately over his penis.

“Crowley, you're a snake!” He hurriedly crossed his legs protectively, but the snake only transferred its attention to his nipples. “Ow! Crowley, this is not funny! Please behave yourself.” And he lifted the snake's head up to his own, to stare into its eyes.

“Crowley dear, what's got into you?”

The snake stared back. Then, slowly and deliberately, Crowley flicked his tongue over Aziraphale's cheek, tracing his way up to the angel's right eyelid, which fluttered closed. Crowley's forked tongue moved delicately, tasting every bit of the angel's face.

Aziraphale's lips parted, and Crowley's tongue darted in to meet that of the angel's. Aziraphale gasped, momentarily overcome with pleasure. Then he firmly moved his head backwards, and spoke.

“Crowley, if you don't become human this instant, I'll – I'll turn your espresso machine into a jar of instant coffee!”

There was a pause as Crowley shifted his molecules around. Then a sly grin.

“Hi angel. Did you _missssss_ me?”

Before the angel could answer, Crowley put his mouth to work again. He nipped and sucked at the angel's neck, leaving little red marks which he hissed at in approval. Then he ducked down to Aziraphale's nipples, catching the delicate flesh between his sharp teeth, and biting over and again until they were satisfyingly erect.

Aziraphale was lying back in a daze, eyes closed and softly moaning. Crowley wasn't giving him much of a chance to process any of this, but it felt _delicious._

Next the demon was flickering his tongue downwards, tracing from between the angel's nipples down to his still-closed legs. Crowley nuzzled at the legs impatiently, and Aziraphale just about had the presence of mind to splay them apart.

Pleased at the sight of Aziraphale's rigid cock, Crowley hissed with pleasure. He flicked his tongue over the head, drawing anguished moans from the angel. The demon continued teasing him for altogether too long (it had been a rough couple of days), before widening his jaw and in one swift movement swallowing Aziraphale down.

The angel gasped and twitched his hips. Crowley dug his elbows into Aziraphale's soft skin to keep him pinned in place. Using fluid serpentine movements, he moved his head up and down, feeling Aziraphale's cock slide through his mouth and into his throat.

Aziraphale was completely stricken. Unable to think or speak, his body twitched and his mouth made small, meaningless repetitive sounds.

Hissing all the while, Crowley sucked and licked at his prize. He could almost feel Aziraphale swelling as he worked. Feeling the angel's twitching body tense up, Crowley swallowed his cock to the hilt again, and made small up and down movements with his head, fucking the angel with his throat. Aziraphale's hips staggered, and he gasped. He came judderingly, spurting into Crowley and emitting a deep “mmmmmmm.”

Crowley wriggled with pleasure. Very slowly and gently, he let Aziraphale's cock slip from his mouth. He kissed it once, and wiggled his way up the bed to hold his angel close.

Oscar Wilde could **fuck right off.**


End file.
